


we're just waiting for the world to end

by cloudysunglasses



Category: Fortuna - Fandom
Genre: Gen, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-24
Updated: 2017-11-24
Packaged: 2019-02-06 08:01:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,480
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12813147
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cloudysunglasses/pseuds/cloudysunglasses
Summary: and all is just as wrong as it ever is with the world.





	we're just waiting for the world to end

He walks into the room and, honestly, he’s like every other O-11 you’ve ever met. You’ve seen hundreds - maybe thousands, who’s counting anymore - you are so old and it has been so long. You love Notails. You love this Notail, too, but you pay no special attention to him for a very long time. He seems bright and lucky and eager to do a good job, so you think he’ll do nicely, but even if he doesn’t there’s only a few short decades before he kicks the bucket too.

And he does do nicely, for a while. O-11 brings you facts just as the others bring you facts and all is just as wrong as it ever is with the world.

\--

They say O-11 has died. This is normal.

They say O-11 is alive. This is normal too. S-urgeons make mistakes all the time, and you have lived long enough that even supposed miracles like these can’t faze you.

They say it is not a mistake. The O-11 that comes to the next meeting is a wreck, and the thing you admire about Notails the very, very most is that they make sure their stolen faces always, always, always smile. O-11’s rabbit face is as sweet as ever, but it is from the hunch in his shoulders and tremor in his voice that you understand that they were right.

\--

O-11 doesn't come to the next meeting. You can't have that, because the people deserve better and an O-class that won't do his job may as well resign. You have the current O-2 tell O-11 this.

You think, briefly, about doing it yourself, before dismissing the thought. It has been a very long time since either you were fit for this world or this world was fit for you, so you'll delegate as you always do.

O-2 reports that O-11 says he understands and it won't happen again. He also reports that O-11 started weeping mid conversation, but that he didn't comment on it. You commend him on his good work, and now that that's all sorted out, you sit back and return to contemplating the universe. As always, as long as you have facts, you can be okay for just a little longer.

And yet your mind keeps drifting back to a certain person this time.

\--

O-11 comes to the next meeting. A car crashes through the window and takes out half of the group instantly. He's completely unharmed and he's already in tears.

“I-I didn't mean to!!! OwO,” he wails, as if he was the driver himself. The meeting room is on the eighth floor. “It just - happens every time I go outside now I - it's why I didn't come last time, it keeps happening - OwO - “ and he descends into a mess of blubbering that's impressively teary for someone covering their face. You'd comfort him if most of your proxies weren't crushed beneath several tons of metal right now.

But you make an attempt.

“Sorry!! I'm so sorry. =)” You think for a moment, and continue. “That's a fact. =)”

“Hhh…? OwO” Even when he's in tears, he remembers to add his stolen face without alteration, and it's funny. Notails are so funny.

“I'm so sorry. To hear that. =)” It is not nearly as natural for you. “Notail Fact: When there aren't enough O-classes to hold a meeting left, a meeting can't be held. =)” His face is the type with the massive eye holes, the ones that let you see the eyes underneath if you peer closely enough, and you're tempted to lean in and do so. But you are, as always, just as unfit for this world as this world is unfit for you, and you do not move.

“...Th...thank you, OwO” and his voice wavers all the same. You twitch your antenna, a gesture of dismissal, and he shuffles out the door, the newer leg dragging behind him a little bit.

\--

You read some of the reports of what he saw in death. Most sources frame it as a hallucination caused by his brain temporarily shutting down, but you know. You know.

You're so sorry. You really are.

\--

O-11 comes to the next meeting, too. You've found replacements for the deceased and the injured have had time to heal, so there are finally enough people again. A meteor crashes through the ceiling and undoes all your hard work in seconds.

“=),” you say, for lack of anything else. O-11 is weeping; he's done that more in the past few months than he has in the last several years.

“I'm sorry! I'm sorry! Th-this is all my fault! OwO” he blubbers, and again the clearest thing out of him is his signature. You're a little jealous - yours quickly gets mangled the more emotional you are, even dropped entirely sometimes. Maybe it's a Notail thing. Despite your best efforts, you still can't fit in.

Nah. You are the original, and the rest are just the most divine of copies.

And again you find yourself skinless. A pity. 

“Notail fact! Do you know? =)”

“Know wh-what…? OwO” He's still crying. It's kind of impressive.

“E-1957319 once said: ‘Madness is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results. 8P’ Now you know. =)”

“...What? OwO”

“Don't come to meetings anymore.” Oops. You dropped the equal-sign-close-parenthesis. Oh well. “We can send you transcripts. =)” There we go.

He wrings his hands. Some of the fingers look new, and they don't seem to be responding as quickly as his others are, but that's just how it is sometimes. 

“I'm not - I'm not being fired? Or punished?”

“Notail fact! Notail fact? =)”

“...? OwO”

“You still do your job. And that's a fact! If you do your job, you can keep your job. Do you know? =)”

“I...I see...OwO…” And as before, he scurries away. It's hard to tell if what you said unsettled him - he always looks unsettled nowadays - but you go with no. That, however, is just a Notail Theory.

\--

You love him like you love all Notails. You wonder if it’s kind of fucked up that you wouldn’t have paid any more attention to him than you do most Notails if he stayed just as happy as the rest are.

\--

O-11 still does his job, so he's still useful. If anything, he's gotten even better at detecting Neo cursed objects than before, and you feel glad to have all the new facts he brings you under your belt. You need facts. They’re the only thing that make you feel anything anymore.

He keeps dying. He dies again and again and again, and O-11s dying is nothing unusual to you, but this one never stays dead. Every time he dies and every time the S-urgeons manage a miracle, and the current O-8 says something about how this proves he’s been leading the class well, maybe hints that perhaps his position should be given more responsibilities, but you pay no mind to it. It’s not him. It’s not them.

You know better.

O-11’s face flickers on the screen at the meeting and, as is now usual for him, he is in tears. Everyone tries to ignore it and, for the most part, you all do a decent job. His face smiles as sweetly as ever and that’s all you need, really.

\--

O-11 dies. O-11 lives for a long time. O-11 practically begs not to be asked to leave his house anymore, and accommodations are made for this when possible, but investigating anomalies is still his job and he is still the best there is. O-11 never lays a claw on anyone, but where he walks, death trails behind.

But it never manages to hold him for very long.

\--

The new O-2 tells you O-11 had a suggestion. You ask why he needed to bother you with this, and you don’t mean for it to come out the way it does, but O-2 flinches all the same. Oh well. That’s just how it is.

“It is about improving the organization of the O-classes. You are our leader, so - C:”

You would wave your hand for him to continue, but you can’t. You can barely do anything anymore, in this rotting form of yours. No one was ever meant to live as long as you have, and you do not move.

He seems to take the hint anyway - good, you like when your second in command doesn’t need too much hand holding to do his job.

“He’s been working on a machine. O-11 thinks he can cheat death. C:”

“Fact! Death comes to all things. =)” You pause. “With some exceptions. =)”

“I know, O-1. He says he’s found a way to trap the soul, and - “ And he explains it to you.

Hm.

You are no stranger to changing how the O-classes run. You've done it before, when they started living too long to be considered representatives of the people anymore. So you'll hear him out.

“Bring him here! Bring him here. =)”

“But, his curse - C:”

“not literally.”

idiot. 

“that's why we have the screens.” Almost as an afterthought, “=).”

“Understood. C:”

\--

O-11 hasn't left his house in months. You haven’t left the O-class building in years. You're kind of kindred spirits in that way, you suppose.

\--

His face flickers on the screen and, he still looks on the verge of tears, but for the first time in a long time he is not weeping. That doesn’t mean he’s okay, but he isn’t weeping. Maybe it has something to do with the fact that recently a good chunk of his head had to be replaced after a freak accident lodged a massive piece of concrete in it, but it is what it is. The newspapers don't even put his near deaths on the front page anymore.

“O...O-1! OwO” The lack of tears doesn’t remove the by now usual tremor in his voice, but there’s a determination in him that you haven’t seen since before the incident. “I...had a proposal…”

“Fact! 96% of meetings would go more smoothly without an introduction. =)”

“...What? OwO?”

“Fact! O-2 told me this. Get on with it. =)”

“R-right...OwO” He clears his throat, and you notice that his arms are different again. That one seems to always be losing parts nowadays. “The current O-class system lets the best of the best be in charge. But that can only last as long as the best are still living...OwO”

“And that’s a fact. =)”

“And it doesn’t have to be! OwO” He pauses, as if startled by his own outburst, before continuing. “I built a machine - I’ve dedicated all my free time to it, and - the Neo doesn’t have to curse our souls, maybe. OwO”

“Go on. =)” You can kind of see the faintest shadow of him scrunching up his eyes behind his face’s gaping eyeholes. It looked cute and sweet back before he fell apart, huge, innocent eyes, but now they just come across as dark and empty.

“We shouldn’t just let the brightest of the bright die. My machine can take their souls and their memories, so - so as long as we store their genetic information, we can clone them. As long as the current system is in place, the notail people will have the be - “

“cut the shit.” You don't even let him finish his signature. “that isn't why you're doing this.”

“...OwO...” Big fat tears are already rolling down his stolen bunny cheeks. So much for not weeping.

“tell the truth. don't waste my time on a lie.”

He breathes in, breathes out.

“...I don't want to die, OwO” he finally admits. “I'm sorry, O-1. I just don't want to die.” O-11 raises a mismatched hand to scrub at the tear tracks on his face. “But I wasn't lying. I really wasn't. I’m not asking for this for free. I really do think - as long as you can prove you’re the best at what you do, you shouldn’t _have_ to die. OwO”

“And if someone is born later? Later later? Fact! If we keep improving, we’ll have better Notails! The better Notails there are, the better Leaders they deserve! =)”

“That’s what I mean! I- _if_ they’re the best at what they do. If someone proves they aren’t anymore, or if someone else does an even better job...OwO” His hands are shaking as he drags a claw over his throat. “Then. You know. They’re replaced. OwO”

Hm. Hmhmhm. As you ponder it over, he suddenly straightens.

“B-by the Neo’s cruel jaws...No one will ever be a better O-11 than I...Let me prove it...OwO”

That’s funny! That’s so funny. His tears may have slowed but he hasn’t stopped crying.

“Fine. =)”

\--

Notails are like Gods. This one feels like a God dragged down to your level.

\--

O-11 begins work on his proposed facility. He still takes care of his other duties, but the amount of attention he pours into the planning borders on the mindless. It takes a great deal of coordinating - his own machine functions correctly, but he has to cooperate with O-7 to get a cloning machine set up and B-classes to maintain it, O-9 to get M-classes assigned to care for the young clones, and O-6 to get F-classes to guard the facility. They’re all wary of speaking to him, knowing what happened to their predecessors, but the promise of immortality and the reassurance that he won’t be visiting them in person is enough to quell their anxieties.

Over time, he slowly scrubs every record of his statements on death from the media. You keep your own copy, because there is no fact you are not allowed to know, but if he will hide this from everyone but you, well. That’s his business and no one else’s. It's like a secret you two share, as time passes and it fades from the public’s memory. The thought is a strange one.

\--

Space is lonely, until space is lonely no longer. You let O-6 handle it.

\--

Space is lonely again. 

They were just like your old species, and they will be forgotten like them too.

\--

There is a new O-6 and a new O-7, but there is a new O-2, 3, 4, 5, 8, 9, 10, 12, as there always is, and you pay no mind to it. Only you and O-11 remain from before, and the fact that anyone but you remains at all is a novel one in and of itself. He hasn't gotten better and he leaves his house maybe once a year, twice if dragged out for work. But he is alive, exactly as he wanted. 

You wonder, sometimes, if he's like you - nothing to live for except the knowledge that even death would be worse. You wonder, sometimes, if he's like you - someone who finds living too painful and dying even more so.

That's silly, of course. You have facts. You have Notails. He has nothing at all, nothing but work that just prolongs his pathetic existence without even distracting from the fact that at the end is nothing easier, and knowing you have it better than at least one person is all you need.

\--

The new O-6 is eager.

\--

The new O-6 is too eager. The death toll is in the billions. They were all just like your old species and they will all be forgotten like them too.

\--

Space is a big new world full of big new facts, and they will be yours for the taking. Space is a big new world that is much stranger than any of you could even imagine, so O-11 is forced out of his home more often than he was before. According to your newest O-2, he wilts whenever he receives such an assignment, but he does it and that’s good enough.

He still isn’t better and death walks where he walks, but he always comes back and that's good enough for him. He’s also become a constant at meetings for you now, and even as the seats change, the screen hanging over O-11’s seat still lights up with the same face. You haven’t had a constant for a very long time, and it’s comforting, in a way.

\--

Notails are strong. Notails do what Notails have always done best. You love the Notails who are the strongest the very, very most.

You wonder where he fits in.

\--

O-6 is unrulier than ever. That’s just how Notails are and you love it! =)

(=

=)

they didn’t deserve to live anyway.

\--

The new O-2 is...interesting. But under the new system, the position is rightfully his, and like always, he is your new second in command. He seems to like you.

“So O-1 is...Oh now this is too funny. :D” He isn’t even wearing his mask, but he somehow remembers his signature anyway. “To expect the unexpected is the truest marker of wisdom. So I expected nothing at all, and I am still shocked. :D”

New O-2 claps you on the shoulder and grins. You’re unimpressed, but he will do.

\--

He does better than expected.

O-2 ambles into the room and slaps a pile of papers down on the table in front of you. He is wearing his mask this time, it and all its toothy glory, but from the set of his shoulders he is not happy at all.

Must be that time of the year.

“O-10 is a traitor. TuT” Pause. “His deals and his incompetence have ruined us. We cannot afford to keep him around any longer. :D”

 

Slowly, slowly, you leaf through the reports, mismanagement after mismanagement, embezzlement after embezzlement, fact after fact after fact. Hm. Your perpetual smile hardens just a little bit, and you find yourself rightly

truly

angry.

=  
)

“deal with him.” 

“Very well. :D”

\--

you’re angry. you’re angry. you’re angry.

you can’t leave this damn building.

with a twitch of your antenna, a g-class going about his business in a shop a few towns over is in your grasp. it’s like playing with dolls when you have him walk his friend off a cliff. he’ll be horrified when you release him. isn’t that how it is.

what would they think of you now.

\--

O-10 resigns. For the first time in a very long time, you’re left with the task of finding a replacement for an O-class the very, very old fashioned way.

(it’s funny. the last resume you had to accept was his. so much has changed and yet he has remained, just as he said he would.)

There are very few applicants for the position, but you suppose you can’t blame them - with the economy in shambles, no one would want O-10’s responsibilities right now. But still, you need to fill the position, and a red bandana catches your attention.

\--

you go silent for a few years. you are not dead because you will never die, you do not leave the o-class building because you will never live, but you are silent. more time to focus anyway; the universe is infinite and you will never be able to contemplate it infinitely, but you can come close.

sometimes you check up on the ones still on eukaryote. most have relocated by now, beyond your reach, but he's still here.

\--

new o-5, new o-9, but you are silent.

\--

Occrafts flatten the building and you aren’t silent anymore.

\--

Some of them question you. Most of them do not. Several of them are new but that’s fine; you go back to how it used to be and they get used to it in time. It has been millennia since you saw him last, but O-11 looks the same as he ever does, and, if your guess is worth anything, the same as he ever will.

O-2 puts his hand on your shoulder again once the meeting is over.

“It is good to hear you again, my friend. :D”

That’s really funny! You don’t have friends. So you don’t say anything, but you don’t even need to - he just keeps talking. It’s interesting that he’s still alive - nearly half of the O-classes are the same as they were when you left. You’re used to people dying, but it looks like he is here to stay.

It’s hard to tell if that’s a good or a bad thing. Maybe it doesn’t matter either way.

“Some were sad to see you disappear. Some were happy. I am certain you can guess who is who, but loving yourself is truly the only worthy goal in life anyway. :D”

“=)”

“I was actually expected to perform my duties for once, it was terrible. :D” He pats your face. “You should speak to O-11, He seemed worried that you never giving your memories or genetic material for cloning meant you were truly dead. :D”

“stupid.”

“Maybe so. :D”

“i’ll think about it.” no you won't.

\--

You do think about it, just a little bit, You think about a lot of things, like you always do, like you always have, like you always will. It’s all you can do.

It’s easy as breathing to find another coat. You take this Z-class and use them to tie the tails of all the young mallons under their care together, and watch as they squeak and roll around trying to untangle themselves. It's funny; they're all so simple minded that they can't help but panic.

You poke one with your coat’s foot and it looks up at you with its big, black eyes full of tears. It almost reminds you of -

With a twitch of your antenna, the connection between you and the Z class is severed.

\--

There's a new O-4. She might be a problem. You cannot speak without skin, and she cannot speak without words. But she is the old O-4’s rightful successor, and Notails, as always, deserve the very best.

She doesn't seem to like you very much. Big mood.

\--

Half the universe goes silent, but Notails survive and Notails triumph, just as Notails always survive and Notails always triumph. You wish you could join everyone in their celebration, but as usual you are no more fit to be with them than they are to be with you.

 

\--

O-11 is a teary mess at the next meeting, as usual. His parts change again and again but he, fundamentally, stays the same. It has been a long time since it was just you and him. It has been a longer time since it was just you. If he was ever going to get better, he would have by now. If you were ever going to get better, you absolutely would have by now. And yet.

The universe is vast, the universe is infinite, you keep living day after day and even then you will never have the time to contemplate it all. It’s inefficient, then, for you thoughts to continue coming back to him

and what he saw 

and what you saw that he saw, 

and yet.

this time he looks back at you. he's never done that before, so you don't know what to do other than look away.

\--

the new o-8 is like you too. they won't admit it.

fine. they can suit themself.

\--

O-2 absently digs his spear into the floor of the meeting room. You don’t even think he realizes he’s doing it, let alone that he means to. You don’t even think he’s particularly agitated; it’s just how he is.

(Funny; he used to be “an O-2” or “the current O-2”, and now he is simply O-2. It’s not like anyone’s managed to dislodge him from his position in the past few thousand years. It’s as O-11 - and you notice the same phenomenon with him - said: the best at what they do shouldn’t have to die.

by those standards, how many corpses deserve your long life more than you.)

“The tension is kind of funny, you know. We have more dramatic sources of entertainment, though, so you don’t have to keep it up. :D”

“=)?”

 

“Your thing with O-11. :D” He’s perfectly relaxed, the way he almost always is, and you find yourself jealous at how effortless it seems. “You stare at him every single meeting, my friend. I am surely not the only one who noticed. :D”

You don’t say anything to that. He doesn’t seem to need you to.

“I know you both are long lived, but how long has it been...four thousand years since you met? :D”

“Fact! Spaceflight was perfected in the year 0. It is now the year 4900. Fact: O-11 has been O-11 since long before then. =)”

“Five thousand, then, and you haven’t even kissed him on the mouth yet. If this was a romantic comedy, the people would have gotten bored of it already, maybe give bad reviews on rotten megfruit or something. :D”

You have a retort prepared, but he interrupts you before you can even move your antenna.

“He doesn’t fit in with notailkind much more than you do anymore. You can match. :D”

 

“it’s different.”

(=

O-2 just shrugs.

“My points are still on you figuring things out before O-6 and O-7 do, so don’t disappoint me. :D” With that, he twirls his spear and walks out of the room, leaving you, as always, alone with your thoughts.

\--

You didn’t deny the part about staring at O-11 because it is true. You don’t know why you didn’t deny the other parts.

\--

O-3 is sent to kill a bog witch. There is a new O-3.

you know about ducklings. you don’t have to like it. they’re born notails and they aren’t even grateful.

not everyone gets that chance

\--

The more you think about what O-2 said, the worse it feels. There’s no place for you to fit in among Notails, not really, not as you are.

He hasn’t been able to fit in in a long time, either, but it’s different.

\--

O-2 says O-11 wants to talk to you. 

“He was just going to relay the report to me, but - :D” There’s a shrug in his voice, even though this is not a video call, as if nothing could be done about it. “I couldn’t be bothered to put on clothes this morning, so I texted him to get in contact with you about it. :D”

“liar.”

“It is the truth. Such a mood strikes me often enough. :D” You can’t see him, but the worst part is that this is definitely the kind of thing he would do. “Truly the saddest lie is to lie to yourself. :D”

ugh.

“fine.”

“Good. He'll probably call sometime today, so wear something nice. :D” And he hangs up.

\--

your life hasn't changed in thousands of years. more and more of the faces at the meeting table become static, but your life hasn't changed in thousands of years.

neither has his, says a foolish part of you, but it's quelled easily enough.

\--

His screen eventually flickers to life, and he isn't crying, but as usual he looks like he might at the slightest provocation. You honestly don't even remember what he used to look like anymore; right now a good chunk of his torso is replaced with that of another notail’s, his left arm and shoulder with a massive pincer, and his right with an arm from some bear-like species. Infinitely more memorable than the ordinary K-class he used to be, but if offered the chance, you're certain he would give anything to go back to his older, duller life.

He would never have lived as long or changed the course of Notail history as completely without death lapping at his heels. Sometimes it's fucked up. Sometimes it isn't worth it.

Sometimes it's too late, and all that was lost will be lost forever.

you'd be lonelier if there wasn't at least one person like you, even if he'd be so much happier if this wasn’t the case. you're so selfish.

You're staring again. He clears his throat.

“It's nothing interesting...just...I guess O-2 didn't feel like talking to me...OwO” And O-11 pauses to fiddle with his computer until the screen in the meeting room lights up with charts and scatter plots. He looks tired, but he always looks tired. “It’s been a reported phenomenon for as long as there's been notails...Sometimes bundles of disorganized information randomly cloud a notail’s thoughts, and it's been thousands of years but no one’s ever been able to find a correlation…OwO”

“Why are you showing me this? =)” He scratches the back of his neck, and it has to be uncomfortable to bend his pincer that way, but he has few other options, so you're certain he's made due a long time ago.

“Yeah, I didn't think this really needed your personal attention, O-1...I'm getting to that though...OwO”

He switched the charts from reports on Eukaryote to reports on other planets. The displayed number plummets to zero.

“This phenomenon’s been reported as a Neo blessing, and then later an anomaly, for ages...on Eukaryote. But when notails leave the planet, even if the planet has a heavy notail population, it never shows up...even people who reported this phenomenon frequently while on Eukaryote note that it disappears once they’re assigned off planet, and vice versa for people from off-planet who get reassigned to Eukaryote...OwO”

He taps the claws of his bear arm against his smooth stolen cheek absently.

“I'm not going to tell the public if I'm right and you don't want me to, but...I just wanted to know...It gets reported to me as a possible anomaly a lot, but is it you? OwO”

(=

“Fact! Psychic energy can clump up in lots of ways. =)” He looks uncomfortable. You're so sorry. You're uncomfortable too.

“That was the prevailing theory for a long time, yes...space travel ended up changing that, but there was always a lot going on...now that the universe is a little more peaceful, more people notice and report it...OwO”

hm.

“It might be. Fact: It is impossible to know for certain. =)” You don't know why you're evading the question. It's not like any of them don't know about your abilities; it's one of the only reliable kernels of truth about you that you allow to be released to the public.

“I see...That's all I had to say O-1...Sorry for wasting your time...OwO” He switches the display screen with the reports off, and moves to switch his own connection off as well, but you.

“wait.”

He waits. You pause.

“You are correct. Fact: As usual, releasing information about me is forbidden. =)” Why did you say that? He already said he wouldn't, and he's already so sad. O-11's been around for so long, he already knows what is acceptable and what isn't.

why are you like this. he gulps but tears don't flow.

“Understood...Thank you for your time....OwO”

“sorry.”

“...What? OwO”

“Sorry!!! I'm sorry. Now you know. =)”

“...Are you okay, O-1? OwO”

“Fact! I wouldn't have agreed to this meeting if I wasn't. =)” as if you agreed in the first place. “I like talking to you. =)”

“Oh...I see...OwO”

there's so much you nearly blurt out

but

you don't want to scare him.

He taps his claws together as if he doesn't know what to say. Same! Same.

“May I ask something else…? OwO”

“Go on! Go on! =)”

“Why do you stare at me so much...? I mean...you can do what you like, but...OwO” he seems nervous. even when you're trying really hard not to, you still make people uncomfortable.

o-2’s an idiot.

“sorry. i’ll try to do it less.”

“I didn't say that...OwO” and he looks surprised by his own words, but does not retract them and does not stop. “Are we friends? OwO”

...

“do you want to be friends.”

“I was hoping we were. But if we aren’t. then...yes. OwO”

he means it.

he doesn’t know a single damn thing about you.

you should tell him no. you should push him away. you are as unfit for this world as this world is unfit for you.

he isn’t here, and you aren’t there, so with a flick of your antenna, you take his bear hand - gently, gently, even with as frail as he is he could snatch control back from you in an instant - and lay it on his cheek. o-11’s eyes are big and round from what you can see of them through the mesh over his eyeholes and you wonder if you have made a mistake.

he leans a little into his own hand, into your touch, and you feel.

something.

\--

it’s him and you, it’s you and him.

it’s fucked up that you’ve lived so long. it’s fucked up that he’s lived so long. you didn’t know what you were getting into. he still doesn’t know what he got himself into.

you stroke his cheek and for once, you don’t think about it.


End file.
